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Isabella Francis Poems
Rushing through my cheeks like a waterfall, Beware of the night when tears fall. Beware, for they won't let me sleep, All through the night I'll have to weep.
The Perfect Night
The breeze blows, Soft and soothing as a caress. The breeze blows, Taking with it all the stress.
Life In A Lie
Dreams break Houses shake Your heart is shattered You got to live your life
The Bus Stop
I stood on the bus stop waiting and waiting Watching the shadows on the street lengthening. The bus however did not come, even if I waited night on night
It Wasn't Mine
Thick and dark my blood flows free, As red as the rose you once gave me. My feet are cold my hands are numb,
You are responsible For the longing To meet someone like you A few years ago
I lay shrouded by blankets, My shallow breathing could be heard in snippets. I lay and wondered why was I still breathing,
As the moon melts into silver, Wind ripples along the river. Drops of blood drip and dissolve in the flow,
Unspoken, Only Felt
It's okay to be late to school once in a while, Specially if I get to see that wave and a cheerful hi. I left home and waited under the gulmohar tree,
The bell chimed clear and high pitched, It felt as if the night's silence had me ditched. Who the hell was it to irritate me at midnight,
Your Tears, My Eyes.
I'll run for hours, I'll walk for miles. I'll do anything, To win that smile.
My Only Goal
Like notches on a prisoner's cell wall, On her fair forearm, short cuts stand tall. Each day in which she loses control over her feelings,
The Sky and The Sea
They are so similar; the sky and the sea, Each day the sun rises on both of them with glee. As the sun rises high in the sky,
Angel Of Death
Laying down pained, scarred and half dead, wanting to scream Calling on to the Angel of Death to free me.
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
Rushing through my cheeks like a waterfall,
Beware of the night when tears fall.
Beware, for they won't let me sleep,
All through the night I'll have to weep.
Cry silently, try to wake no one up,
Who cares? because I'm the only one up,
To fight for all and lose for none,
In tormenting me life has great fun.
In an attempt to make others' life glitter,
I dive for pearls and for life splutter.
But behind the scenes there is someone who is waiting for a cue,
And she, is sure to come to my rescue.
Even when I'm utterly scared, ...